Last Saturday night I had a beautiful dinner on the sidewalk outside a French bistro across the street from Fort Greene Park in Brooklyn.

It had just rained, in one 20-minute-long torrential fit, after a hot, steamy day, and the night was finally cool. Rain glistened off the street. The park was lush and empty. We ate mussels and pate and good bread and talked about the best local wine stores with the server, who poured us a slightly funky and exceedingly delicious Greek rosé.

A French family with three kids (including a baby) sat at a table inside a makeshift enclosure in the road at an hour when most American children would be in bed. As we were leaving, lightning bugs lit up the air around the diners.

This post originally appeared on July 18, 2020 in Amanda Kludt’s newsletter “From the Editor,” a roundup of the most vital news and stories in the food world each week. Read the archives and subscribe now .

Last Saturday night I had a beautiful dinner on the sidewalk outside […]

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